Batman and Joker in: Defiance
by SwampFoxLily9
Summary: Batman finds Joker withering in agony and contemplates their absurd friendship. Also, Harvey intends to sell Batman at an auction. Can Joker save him before he's sold? Rating has gone up!
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

Batman and Joker in...

Defiance!

**Batman® and all its characters belong to Bob Kane. **

On a willowy December Eve, snow glinted from trees and flitted unto dead amber leaves. A flash of purple ran stark across the plain of reflective snow and glided into a darkened alleyway- leaving a trail of crimson liquid behind. In the gust of a frigid wind, a body lay slumped against a greasy trash can. Its abdomen convulsed in sheer agony as rivets of blood poured from an abrasion, completely absorbed in frightening laughter.

"Ah... Ha ha... He... ho..." Laughter bubbled inside the crazed fiend, encasing his insanity furthermore. The pain only delighted him- it was only numbness, and that alone made his insides giggle with fervor. Blood poured more profusely; simply because his chest heaved with deathly laughter. He smiled, pressed the wound gently against his marred chest and felt the blood congeal to form some sort of barrier to cease flow.

After what seemed like decades, a black robust vehicle shaped with contours that of a winged predator parked itself by the distant curb. The roof slid opened and there appeared a masked vigilante with piercing blue eyes and handsome features holding cuffs. He had a stern gaze plastered on his covered face- and stared intensely at the injured man.

"Joker..." Batman tensed at the utterly horrible man and fought down the urge to pummel him into absolute oblivion.

"Thought- urg... You'd find me sooner, Batsy." Tears rolled down Joker's listless cheeks, limbs quaking in excitement. "Just save me already... I need you to save- urg... me..." He grinned earnestly and squinted his eyelids at the already blurry man. Batman entered his vision, so close he could practically inhale the scent of delirious heat. It wafted and wavered off Batman in rolls, heat so intense it made Joker shiver in delight. Joker sensed this as a teasing manner, unusual for the casual Bats- which made him wonder. What was this Batman planning?

Batman glimpsed at the pitiful man aside the wall and lifted his thin, anorexic frame into his open embrace. Joker was ridiculously thin and frail, almost that of a tree limb. Had the guards at Arkham Asylum actual lead him onto the path of starvation and insanity, and with that, the isolation and beatings he took? It was an enigma to see Joker still be able to function, let alone to think and process by himself. Flimsy green hair tickled under Batman's cowl, making him stifle a giggle that was threatening to let loose. Joker immediately picked up on the motion and rubbed his slick emerald hair further up into his cowl.

Batman suppressed a chortle from deep within- and felt the thinly painted man relax and press into his clad Kevlar. Joker's eyes fluttered listlessly, phlegmatic and languid. Almost after this he fell asleep, smiling giddily like a school girl in the arms of an angel.

Joker woke to find himself in a lavish and eloquently pieced room with expensive items displayed almost arrogantly. His upper half was bare and naked, the wound he had received pieced together with thin strands of fabric. Pain shot up his torso, making him choke out a giggle, and then only to fall back unto the bed he was stationed to with a wide, stretching grin. The laughter turned into an annoyingly endless fit, more giggles escaping his lips and bursting into the atmosphere- right until the seams of his wound stitching split and ripped opened his wound again. He actually murmured a whine of agony, silence echoing like caverns inside his concealed mind. The threshold of pain had finally been broken, the walls beaten by a small thin slice of fabric.

Through the process of the pain, Joker did not realize Batman had heard the small cry of agony and deliberately paced up the stairs and walked the hallways, peering at every ornament that decorated the ceilings and walls. **H**e finally reached the room where Joker was held and opened the door. There, on the bed, was Joker writhing in absolute misery, but this was not present physically. Joker sides were rippling and heaving with painful chokes of laughter, tears flowing down his cheeks in rivets. Batman rushed over to be beside the shaking man- and held the emerald haired man by his quaking limbs and trembling eyes. As soon as it started, the pain with held its unforgiving grasp and left Joker quivering in strain. Muscles were phlegmatic and exuded languor; panting from the lack of necessary oxygen.

His eyes rolled around inside their sockets, delirium threatening to take control of the madman on the bed. Green jade eyes met piercing blue, making the opposing foes to gaze further into their souls. Joker reciprocated the action and was met with a startling realization- those eyes seemed like those of the millionaire Bruce Wayne. Blue- sharp and penetrating...

"You're... Brucey, aren't you?" Joker asked, apprehensive with an exciting teasing manner. Batman looked warily at the pale man and sighed. It was futile, placid with Joker as the reciprocator- might as well admit then to have a useless debate and end in fighting. He nodded; his eyes avoiding the lewd observation of the Joker. "Ah... Who... knew?" Tears bled into hard Kevlar, making the light gray fabric turn a sour black color. Batman reached over Joker and opened the bureau to reveal a small sewing kit. He pressed the sides open and retracted a needle with coarse thread, pulled it through the small hole and began to sew the already seeping wound on Joker.

He gently prodded the pale flesh with the sharp incisor and pushed the barrier of skin, drawing fresh blood. Joker wailed in anguish; the sewing was more profuse and agonizing than he had ever imagined- bringing tears to his eyes. Laughter began to escape his lips as blood ran amuck on his thighs and formed a pool around thin, elongated legs. The needle finished the last strand of opened flesh and dwindled until Batman cut the thread and poured antibacterial gel onto the cicatrix. Joker hissed as the pain subsided and completely disappeared. He then smiled at Batman warmly, his expression exuding the thanks he could not portray to the winged rodent. Batman only glared at the crazed man and frowned, standing awkwardly on the bed and left Joker to deal with the pain that would come in later minutes.

Joker lay back on the bed and studied the wound Batsy had sewn up. He had done quite a wonderful job, the fabric in synchronization with his laceration and in perfect working order. It was apparent that he was amorous of the studious work- who knew the millionaire had been Batsy- and with that- he had the sewing skills like that of a nun of the **Abby?** Only having a thin veil of leather purple covering his entire lower nether regions, Joker rose and glanced momentarily into a mirror- and saw a panting, thin, wiry man with a tangled wild green mane.

His lips were parched and deprived of any source of nutrition- naked, fleshed colored- lacking its usual glistening blood lustful color. He almost seemed human; but that in itself was a miracle, if not extraordinary. Joker only sank back unto the overly pronounced sheets and sighed vehemently. To say he was bored was a complete understatement. All his mind could register was the winged rodent and his absolutely ravishing eyes, that musky scent that drew him in like a fish on a hook. Cursing himself for thinking such abhorred thoughts, Joker drew the covers around his head and closed his tired eyes.

Thoughts drifted; souls flounced patriotically unto the sky when Joker was beside himself, alone and secluded from the worrisome world. He was free to let his wringed mind wander to unknown worlds, to let freedom ring. But now, inside the Batman's quarters, inside his fluffy black duvet, on top of his bed- freedom seemed like the epitome of long forgotten. Only silence and more of the unenviable pondering when Batman finally decided to retrieve his prisoner of war, to release the chains his mind was bound to.

As if on cue, Batman barraged inside and awaited the Joker's readily pounce or cleverly played words means of escape- but all that came from inside the duvet was a sharp, mangled sigh of irritancy. Joker had received his ill-gotten gains, and now he was to wait out the punishment. The thought of Joker actually revealing sort of emotions in front of this masked vigilante only made him become more irate, being so vulnerable in the presence of him. He had let down the most vital part of his image- his emotions.

"What is it, Batman? Come to play Cat and Mouse with me?" Joker thrust the suffocating duvet off and threw the handsome man look of stance. If looks could kill, bang goes the bat, Joker thought snidely. Cold silence followed the remark Joker had cleverly laid, leaving the emerald jest a bubbling, infuriated red colored.

"I actually came to see how you were, idiot." Batman stated, voice seething with unrequited care. A blush resonated across Joker's face, giving himself the appearance of an embarrassed schoolgirl. The mere thought of Batman actually reciprocating _care_ was utterly gratifying; enlightening of the sort. "You seem well. I must go attend other, ahem, _important_ things. Goodnight, Joker." Batman turned and held the doorknob. The motion cut delicate, thin strips inside of Joker- he was plucking heartstrings.

"Don't... go." Joker whispered, tilting his head in mere and literal desperation. Batman turned, bathed the emerald jester in a frightening look that was so foreign to this man's entire demeanor. A complete lather of requited admiration washed over Joker; his body trembling in anticipation of the oncoming. The winged rodent glided over to the man pressed against the large canvas bedpost and thrust his hand out in resignation. Joker gazed confused at the strange gesture and merely frowned.

"Shake the hand." Batman spoke, his tone gentle as if speaking to a naïve young child. Joker nodded, a light bulb figuratively peering over his head and took the gloved palm and shook warmly. Joker giggled and embraced the caped crusader; his soul soaring high above the atmosphere and unto the vacuum of space. An odd sensation frothed inside Batman, his mind warily suspicious of the stimuli Joker had sparked deep within his core- this rose absolute fear inside the Dark Knight's intellectual facilities.

"B- Man... you big lush..." Joker breathed into Batman's callous suit, inhaling the scent of cologne and adrenal sweat. The two men stood there; enveloped in each other's presence when Alfred, the Butler of Bruce Wayne, knocked apprehensively on the door. Batman released Joker from their lastly embrace, sighed in apparent humility and gave the door knob a quick flick of the wrist and murmured, ''Enter the assassin...'' There indeed entered a fuming elder man with a petite, thin moustache and pursed lips the color of oncoming death. He had eyes the color of charcoal- that was systematically burning a fire that was clearly obviously in his bodily gestures.

"Master Wayne, may I ask, why is the Joker inside your living quarters. He is a criminal and should be inside Arkham Asylum." Alfred inquired, his hand reaching to apprehend the bolting younger man. Batman looked at Alfred like a child caught for doing bad, the deer in the headlights expression plastered on his face. "Master Wayne- your parents raised you to do better. I dearly hope you know what you are doing, Sir. Oh, yes, I did forget to mention... A Ms. Yoko Dent called. She left a voice message. She said to reply urgently." Batman nodded and retired to his Bat Cave.

Joker watched with frivolity; eagerness bubbling and frothing inside the Clown Prince of Crime- and then followed the Caped Crusader down into the catacombs of darkness and fear. When he finally arrived, Batman immediately initiated the removal of his Kevlar laced clothing and his black cowl. His fingers lingered at the spot of the removal sight of his cowl and peeled the tight, constricting head piece and pulled generously. What was revealed was a mangled display of raven crested hair, straight darkness glistening in the perforated gleam of lights. Joker was appalled at the sight of Bruce Wayne; his entire facial area was radiating and no blemish or facial scarring was present. He was truly an angel- but a fallen angel at that- only to succumb to darkness that Gotham emanated.

Suddenly, Bruce became aware of another apparition besides himself and terminated the initiation of the removal of his costume- his eyes scanning the area with absolute, deathly seriousness. His eyes caught the sight of purple and green hiding behind a display of batarangs- and immediately reprimanded the Joker by gripping his laced, satiny fabric of clothes by the collar. The emerald jester choked and grabbed Batman's gloved hands and grinned eerily.

"Batman... You... look... like an angel..." he gasped out, his mind on the verge of unconsciousness. Bruce only stared, his lips a tangled ball of string- absolutely speechless at the strange statement Joker had blurted out. The words echoed inside his empty and cavernous mind- forever branded into his dark gray matter. *brain allusion* An angel? Bruce had always seen himself as a man of infinite virtues; but he had thresholds of things he never allowed anyone to pass. This simple collection of words had barreled, no, penetrated this barrier like scissors slicing paper. Why had it so easily slipped past Batman's guard, now slivering its way into his mind?

Joker now rest limp in the Caped Crusader's tightening grip; deprived of all sense and emanated deliriousness. Batman released his grasp on Joker's crumbled, absurdly drawn purple and green suit and allowed him to resign on hard, black Kevlar. Joker's breathing pattern retained normalcy; at that his shallow harnessing of oxygen remotely ever sounded normal- more like an exhausted cat after chasing a mouse.

Batman surveyed the situation- Joker, asleep and completely vulnerable, his position begging to be taken back to Arkham Asylum. A chance like this would rarely ever surface- to be a true hero and return the Crazed Clown to his rightful place or simply take the Joker into consideration and as an acquaintance. These two options literally would define Batman as he is now and his time was limited until Joker rose from his elongated slumber.

After much deliberation with himself, Batman decided to be a hero and return Joker to Arkham Asylum. He pulled a syringe from his Bat Utility belt and gently injected the serum inside Joker's jugular and waited the affects to settle in. Minutes past and Joker was fully under the serum's powerful retention- but Batman realized the consequences of his humane decision. To send Joker back to Arkham would do well; but he only would be abused and beaten by fellow inmates and orderlies and try to escape. Trying not to think upon thoughts of regret, he called the Bat mobile and laid Joker in the passenger side.

The ride to Arkham was serene and quaint without the frivolous incessant gabber of the Joker- Batman relished this moment and glancing at Joker, he came to the discovery that Joker seemed calm and unperturbed. He took this moment and slipped something inside the Joker's left pocket. Innocent as a lamb, as Batman considered it. The two arrived shortly after the epiphany- a knock and entrance was granted. Commissioner Gordon chortled and gave a sigh of relief as Joker lay peacefully in Batman's grasp bridal fashion.

"The Joker in one piece. I'm surprised and grateful, Batman. You've done it this time. Guards- take this clown to his cell." A swarm of orderlies and Guard surrounded the resting Joker and dragged to the abhorred cell that was now his home. His placid body slumped against the padded cell and something jarred up his side that brought Joker from his peaceful state to cold reality. He looked around and saw he was placed in his cell inside Arkham.

"Damn... Never trust a bat with a utility belt." He felt the jarring sensation again in his left side and reached to relief the pain. What his hand revealed was a batarang, sharp and lacerating. A note was scrawled on the bottom, so small he could barely perceive it in the given light. It appeared as if it said... Jokers breathe halted. A small heart with 'From Batsy' lined the bottom. On the back it read, 'Stay out of trouble.' Joker laughed silently to himself and held the artifact close to his blushing cheek. Cold, assuring metal met warm flesh. "Batsy... you're a true friend, you know that?" The Joker only lay back in his cell and let the smell of urine and rank fill his nostrils until he finally configured with the impossible. He was now a friend with Batman.

**FIN **

**Hope ya'll enjoyed. I might add more... Just ask. **


	2. Chapter 2 Batsy Gets Caught

Chapter 2: The Chapter One

Joker's head lolled around as the heavily inflicted drugs bled through his veins and blurred his stigma-infected vision. He grinned as a light, beautiful emotion caressed his entire body, leaving him in a world of pure bliss. The batarang lay intelligently hidden in one of the soft padding in the walls, away from orderly sights. With heart racing and lips trembling, he struggled out of the straitjacket that contained his arms and freed himself. The wall was only a few measly yards away, but to the drug induced Joker, it seemed like eternity and infinite. He balanced himself and held a weak grasp on reality while reaching to get the silvery batarang.

The padding fell away and nothing was there. Those orderlies! They must have taken it while Joker was at his most vulnerable state. He pulled out the knife they hadn't bothered to partake and seated himself beside the door and awaited his prey, reassured they would arrive soon. Finally, the 2 orderlies opened the bolted, secured panel and Joker lunged at the larger of the 2 and sliced his throat; the man fell and collapsed in a pool of red fluid. The eldest man turned and he soon came beside his friend with a serrated knife protruding from his neck.

"Enjoy hell, my friends..." Joker giggled and dashed out the door into black, void enamored darkness. The only source of hope was a small, delicate bulb that hung far in the darken hallway. Joker considered the fact that there was a guard possibly near that light with his batarang and death or containment would ensue. So he went back into the cell, retrieved the bloodied knife from the orderlies' neck and crept to light. A guard was indeed sitting there, sipping coffee and reading an out-dated magazine. He also had a batarang sticking out of a box labeled 'Collected Weapons' and Joker locked on his target.

Crouching, licking his lips eagerly, he sprang and jumped on the unsuspecting guard and stabbed the man in the neck and dragged the knife across his flesh. Viscous fluid poured from his wound and coated Joker in a layer of darkly portrayed blood. Joker giggled at the dying man who was coughing blood up- and took his prize, the batarang and fled out the door. Passing the first guard was a clinch, but more correlated guards lie ahead in Joker's path. He decided to be a saint (Which was not in his vocabulary) and found a ventilation shaft that fit his lithe frame. Unscrewing the bolts that held the doors closed, he pulled the metal panel back and inserted himself inside the cold, metallic tube.

Joker inched himself through, avoiding the most delicate places where he surely would have fallen through and finally reached his destination. Through the slated bars he could see rain falling and a watery view of Wayne Enterprises, and by the feel of things, it was bitterly cold. Joker reimagined himself inside the Bat's house, underneath his blanket, wrapped in his wonderful musky scent- hidden from the frigid and bitter world, only to succumb to Batsy's elegant warmth. He shivered and kicked the panel outwards, removed himself from the claustrophobic tube and was immediately soaked.

Joker splashed around in the puddles, enjoying the fresh layer of water to rinse away the grim and despair from his flesh and the blood also. He held the batarang tight and ran out the gates of Arkham Asylum, a flash of white, red and green blurring in the midst of the chilled December rain. After much searching, he found an abandoned warehouse and an old, dusty mattress covered in grim and what seemed like blood. Joker made himself at home, throwing his exhausted body on the bed and sighed in content. Now, since he had nothing better to do, he'd wait for Batsy to come around and thank him for the present.

Joker gazed at the small, delicate batarang and pondered- Why had Batman given away such a vital piece of his utility belt to a criminal like him? Thoughts of Valentine cards labeled 'From Batsy, my dearest' entered his mind and he laughed at the expense of Batsy having a crush on him. What a wonderful thought that was, heck, he might even reciprocate the feeling and they could have a small little Bat- family. The moonlight poured through the window while splats of raindrops coursed and slid down the tainted glass- and Joker felt content at last and fell asleep with thoughts of death and murder in mind.

...

The next morning, Bruce Wayne woke to find a newspaper placed neatly beside him and a plate of delicious eggs, bacon and toast on a silvery tray. He smiled at Alfred's kindness and picked up the newspaper and read the headline. 'Crazed Psychopath Escapes Arkham' filled the entire first part of the paper and Bruce nearly choked on his toast. Joker had escaped? The security had been advanced and prepared for escaping patients- but apparently Joker was the only intelligent one to actually evade guards and escape. Bruce finished his meal and ran down the stairs, entering the living room then to his grandfather clock.

He placed the hands on the clock to 10:47 and went inside the huge elevator to the Batcave. The ride downwards was fast and Bruce went to his large Bat-Computer, pressed a series of buttons, pressed enter and saw a red dot beeping on screen. He had been smart enough to place a GPS tracker inside the Batarang he gave Joker- and now he could monitor where Joker was hiding. The red dot seemed to be placed at the old Ace Chemicals Factory, the birthplace of the legendary Joker. 'Ironic, yes indeed.' Bruce thought to himself as he donned the mask and suit to find the whereabouts of Joker.

Now as Batman, he climbed into his Bat-mobile and raced towards the red beeping dot eagerly, not exactly sure what he was in for. You couldn't be exact when Joker was involved- for all Batman knew he could have hostages or be robbing banks. Batman groaned not in spite of the path ahead, just purely out of tiredness and sorrow of being alone. As Bruce Wayne, he could have any woman he desired but that was different when Batman was in the equation. He sought out justice and striking fear in criminals, but he wanted more than that.

He wanted... a family. A wife. Someone to come home to, to cup his face and whisper soft, delicate words of matrimony and kiss his lips with ferocity yet gentleness at the same time. But only one situation mattered right now, and that was finding Joker and placing him back where he belonged. In Arkham city, away from murder and despair, into the sanctuary of loneliness and isolation. Something stirred inside of him at the thought of Joker... and a vision of him in a pearly, white dress with a veil placed over his shimmering green hair readily holding him- their lips centimeters away...

Batman nearly swerved off the side of the road, almost crashing into a cluster of tall oak trees. He shook himself out of that nightmare. No way was that going to happen in the nearest future, not ever- The GPS navigational system registered that he was nearing Joker and chirped nonchalantly at Batman. Ace Chemical Factory, the sign read. He was sure this was the place Joker resided and stepped out of the Bat-mobile into puddles of water. Warily, he pulled out knock out gas from his utility belt and some batarangs just in case Joker decided to put up a fight.

A peaceful looking sociopath lay dormant on a mattress that appeared to be coated in blood with closed, resting eyes. He almost laughed at the sight, a peaceful, murdering, crazed madman vulnerable against any sort of attack. Joker stirred, his body sluggish and impervious to the Batman's presence as he neared the resting Clown. Batman finally arrived at the bed, anxious to awake the psychopath and provoke his slumber. He gently prodded at Joker's thin side, feeling hard porous bone and bare muscles hanging by threads. Deft fingers curled under crumpled clothes and with Batman's strength he lifted Joker off the dusty mattress into his open arms.

He was extremely light, almost nothing compared to Batman's muscular frame. From underneath the Arkham Asylum's given gown, he could see protruding bones and signs of subdural hematomas. Then, Joker opened his eyes and gazed at Batman, then stabbed him in the pectorals. It barely penetrated the hard Kevlar, only creating a small cicatrix and fell to the ground with a clatter.

"Nice to see you too, Joker." Batman commented harshly, tossing the Clown Prince of Crime back unto the bed and applying cuffs to the Joker's palms. Joker struggled against the metal restraints and tried to raise himself off the mattress but fell meekly to the floor in a tangled heap. He giggled at the sudden outburst of pain that exploded across his vision with bright, blinding stars. Batman raised Joker up and threw him back on the bed, not being in the slightest kind about it. Crimson liquid ran down Joker's lips from being tossed harshly on the uncomforting bed and he pouted at the Dark Knight.

"What, no morning kiss, Batcakes?" Joker whispered lightly, undoing the cuffs that restrained his hands and pushed Batman against the wall. Batman jostled against the crazed clown, but ended up only pressed himself further against the wall. Joker laughed at Batman's futile attempts at trying to escape and put his leg in between Batsy's thighs.

Blood rushed to Batman's head as deft fingers trailed up through his Kevlar and rested at his chest, tracing circles above his pectorals. "Get off me, Joker." Batman said as he grabbed him by the scruff of his cotton outfit and tried to move under Joker's lustful gaze. He seemed stronger than he appeared, Batman thought as he was thrown up against the hard wall again. Joker became agitated with the Batcakes attempt of escape and grasped his wrists and placed them above his head. His lips were parted, glistening in anticipation of the oncoming fireworks he had planned. Dipping his head so that theirs met with vigor, he brought his head closer- so close-

Batman kicked Joker in the abdomen and pushed the lithe body off his own and dashed out the door into the gloomy atmosphere. Joker followed and brought out a baseball bat, and with that, he slammed it up the Bat's head. He collapsed to the pavement, into the murky puddles that lined the cracked curb and into Joker's embrace. Joker nearly fell along with Batman, barely strong enough to support his muscular frame and placed him on the mattress gently. What plans he had with Batsy were now completely changed, and what fun he would have with the Caped Crusader...

That's all folks, next chapter with devolve into the twisted mind of Joker! Reviews make the world go 'round!


	3. Chapter 3 Red Lips and Black Kevlar

Chapter 3- Red Lips and Black Kevlar

**Alright guys. This is where things go from friendship to** **smutty goodness. I wrote this purely on caffeine and a nice evening of listening to Lady Gaga. Warning- slight OOC-ness. Enjoy!**

The next evening, the Caped Crusader woke to find Joker cuddled and sunk beside his body, basking in the warm, lipid glow that radiated from their bodies. His immediate response to that was removing himself from the contours of Joker's body and gaining access to the nearest exit- but, with the present situation, Joker had him pinned. He struggled against the red-lipped grasp, futility lacing his efforts as Batman reached to take purchase on white cotton cloth. Suddenly, piercing jade eyes gazed at the Bat with piqued interest and inquiry.

"Hey... What's the matter Batsy? Cat got ya cape?" Joker spoke nonchalantly, as if speaking to a worrisome lover. He then reached across and stroked Batman's cheek, earning himself a hard slap across the face and a negotiable place on the floor. "Ah... ha..." Joker giggled, then hissed as Batman rose of the bed and shoved the tip of boot into Joker's side. Blood burbled out from the corners of his mouth as he hit the opposing wall with sheer brute force. "Ha ha...Careful, B- Batsy... I'm still a virgin..." he whispered through his lips, teeth stained with crimson liquid.

Batman grabbed Joker by the collar of his uniform and tossed him up against the wall without mercy. Their eyes locked in a mesmerizing stare, and Batman stole a glance at Joker's lips, whose were puckered and glistening, begging to be engulfed with the sweet contours of his own mouth. Joker realized the present situation, surprised to observe the Bat not pummel him into oblivion- and he inched closer, pressing his lithe body against Batman's sculpted chest lightly. All those years, fighting against each other, this was how it was going to end. By lips meeting and fingers nimbly searching for an expanse of knowledge, to know the reason why they had ended the hopelessness, the reason they were created.

The air was strained with tension as Batman responded to the Joker's voluntary motion, pressing back. Deep within the dark recesses of Batman mind, there was a small voice screaming that this was wrong, that he needed to end this madness before it escalated into something he couldn't get himself out of, that he'd- he would enjoy it... But he wasn't listening to the nagging voice; he was listening to Joker breath heavily underneath his weight and watching his movement. Their heads inched slowly closer, so languorously, and with fervor, lips brushed across the surface, saliva coating the flesh delicately. Batman was the one to deepen the kiss, gaining entrance to Joker's mouth and caressed the sides of his marred features.

Heat built up between the two and both held the position of mouth to mouth, and Joker's fingers crept up hard Kevlar, eager to release the lingering boundary pent up between the twosomes. He gave Batman a look that said, 'Clothes get rid of them.' Batman understood the look and removed all aspects of his suit, leaving only black boxers and radiant, flawless skin on his features. But when looking down, scars and bruises that would make an abusive husband blush were present. And those were caused by Joker. That marked him; it stood out, made his body say he belonged to Joker. Joker grinned fevorently, he then removed his own clothes and now they both were in boxers.

Their mouths met again with the equivalence of two lustrous panthers and both moved over to the mattress earnestly. This wasn't right at the moment, it was too soon- thought Batman as Joker slid his hands down his boxers to relieve the aching member that thrummed against the beat of his heart. "No... N-not here..." Batman gasped, breathless and flushed against the warm feel of Joker's flesh. "Too soon... I can't- ah!" A moan burbled past Batman's lips as fingers deftly stroked his straining erection, pleasure licking the tip of his spine.

Another shot of pleasure arched up his back, making him buck into Joker's nimble workings- fingers dug into pale white skin as the strokes grew with intensity. Batman knew he was going against everything he had ever set up, everything he stood by, and suddenly this didn't seem very settling with his mind. He pulled away from Joker's slick, panting body and held onto the sheets with apprehension. Joker pouted, his full lips pleading to be kissed and suckled. Batman sighed and took Joker into his mouth, lips meeting with ferocity- and slipped down further into the mattress with an embarrassed frown.

Batman's breath staggered as Joker cupped his hardened member and delicately thumbed it, making him gasp and weakly reach for purchase on warm flesh. A burning, coiling feeling started to form inside Bruce, bubbling into a pleasurable hum of tickled nerves. His mouth was agape as Joker licked the base of his jaw and the shell of his ear, then trailed down to the exposed plain of flesh on his neck. Joker sucked the skin there, gently prodding his tongue around. His own length pleaded to have attention as Batman moaned wantonly and brushed up against his strained erection, sending waves of pleasure that tickled the base of his spine.

"J-Joker... I can't do this... I won't be able to... ah! Forgive myself-f..." Batman whispered, suppressing the urge to buck and slide into the grasp of Joker. Joker smiled inwardly and kept stroking Batsy's throbbing member- and finally, he felt the tension in his opponent build- the way his finger dug into the musty sheets and how his breath shortened. "Gah... Ah... J-Joke...r..." A cry slipped past Batman's lips as a feeling of pure heaven ruptured across his entire body- it embraced his nerves and muscles in a warm but ferocious manner. He ran his matted and clammy palms over Joker's moist back, digging harshly as he rode out the feeling of pleasure in a reciprocal motion.

"Hush... Batsy, it's alright. Now it's my turn." Joker led Batman's trembling fingers to his purple boxers- and sighed in frustration as he held a limp wrist and a contently sleeping man in black boxers. "Just when I needed ya, Batsy dear." Joker set down his wrist and left the sleeping Bat to tend to his needs.

.

After the time they had spent together, Batman had collected his armor and placed them rightfully back into place on his body and left in his Bat-mobile. The situation kept playing over and over inside his mind, he had almost slept with his mortal enemy, and God he enjoyed it. Why had he succumbed too easily to Joker's greedy and alluring whims? Why had he taken his most solemn vows and torn them to thin shreds? He left in such a hurry; he hadn't had the chance to take Joker to Arkham or at least bid goodbye... Not that he wanted to, of course.

"Evening, Master Wayne." Alfred commented as Bruce entered the Batcave with a battered mind. He fumbled with the keys and set them aside on Alfred's silver glistening tray, wishing he could at least have an evening without disturbance. Alfred caught the emotional display Bruce was radiating and left him to sort out whatever priorities he wished to keep to himself. He was thankful that Alfred was so understanding and held respect for his elder care-giver.

With his suit off and mind refreshed, Bruce went to his large Bat-computer and seated himself in the plush spinney chair to track Joker's movements. He apparently was at Gotham's Ace Chemical Factories, probably sleeping or devising another attempt to rob the Gotham National Bank again. Whatever the situation, Bruce was prepared to kick ass and take no prisoners. Although he desperately needed rest and a good night's slumber, he wasn't in the mood to deal with Joker's sadistic ways and innocent civilians might be on the line. At that exact moment, his cell rang and the caller ID was Commissioner Gordon. Speak of the devil, he thought crassly.

"Batman! Thank God you answered! Harvey's here and threatened the entire force with their lives if you don't come. Get over here!" Gordon whispered, then Bruce heard the dial tone as he hung up. 'What could make this evening any better than this?' Bruce thought curtly. He suited up and left the Batcave with guilty thoughts of Joker in a lavished wedding dress, eyes highlighted with black eye shadow and thick, red lips intensified by crimson lipstick. Batman pondered on the idea of having a life with Joker, and he shuddered in fright. What was with him and his new obsession of Joker becoming his wife? The idea seemed vaguely interesting, and Batman shut out that thought immediately.

Finally, he arrived at Gotham Police Department and entered the building with caution. Batman spotted Harvey at the reception's desk, calmly tossing his trademark coin up and down. Harvey caught his gaze and sauntered over to the Dark Knight, inspecting him like a piece of precious jewelry or rare art. His blonde hair was brushed smoothly to the side, and his appearance was that of a half-scarred lion stalking prey with bloodied teeth. Batman almost reciprocated the look, if not for when Harvey pressed further and stared into the murky pool of Batman's eyes.

"Hello, Batman. We've waited for this moment. Are you excited?" Batman made no response, only to be shoved against a wall that held up various pictures of lost comrades and then observed with imperceptive eyes. "We are going on a trip, just the 3 of us to a special place." An indiscernible look passed his features, one that made Batman suspicious of Harvey's intentions. Batman stole a glance over Harvey's shoulder to see if Gordon was anywhere in the perimeter. He was seated in a chair with one of Harvey's henchmen aiming a gun at his forehead. "If you resist, we'll put a bullet in your friend Commissioners brain, alright?" he smiled as Batman docility was submitted and they walked out of the building into the cool, brisk evening.

A grey van without a tag or permit sat beside an eroding curb, heavily guarded by bulking men in black leather. Obviously his choices were numbered so Batman calmly entered the van without resistance. Harvey followed, pushing the tip of cold, metal gun against his back, oblivious to the fact if he shot Batman it would deflect the bullet. 'Might as well play his game. There's no point of risking Gordon's life because of my ignorance.' Batman wondered, his gaze fixated on the driver and Harvey's amiable smile. He seemed pleasant enough to have Batman as a hostage, but there was a glimmer of doubt barely visible above his Two-Face grin.

"What do you want from me, Harvey?" Batman asked at last, breaking the tension and the quaint silence.

"Ah, what fun what that be if we told you? Let's just say there's an auction and you are included." Harvey merely smiled at Batman's baffled expression, incredulously in a state of denial at the thought of himself at an auction, being sold to a criminal.

"Harvey... You can't do this. You aren't like this!" Batman defended, almost ready to tackle the impervious criminal.

"Oh, but we can, we can Batman. This will help us tremendously, since a lot of people want your head on a mantle. They'll be willing to pay _anything_ for you, Batman." He briefly frowned at the thought, chaos readily awaited when Batman left. Ah, but anarchy was only beginning. Only the beginning.

**Cliffhanger warning, guys! Ha... Reviews make the world go 'round, guys!**


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